


Sometimes When I Close My Eyes I Pretend I'm Alright

by Cleo



Category: Lost Boys (1987), The Losers (2010)
Genre: Angst, First Time, M/M, Revenge, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-14
Updated: 2013-01-14
Packaged: 2017-11-25 12:33:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/638943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cleo/pseuds/Cleo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When all you’ve lived for is revenge for the murder of the one you loved. What happens when you finally get the chance for vengeance and things go sideways?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes When I Close My Eyes I Pretend I'm Alright

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mumblemutter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mumblemutter/gifts).



> I have not seen any of the other movies in _The Lost Boys_ series other than the original. So this is post- _The Lost Boys_ and pre- _The Losers_ movie!verse. I have this taking place twenty years after _The Lost Boys_ and three years prior to _The Losers_ movie. 
> 
> Huge thanks goes out to lady_krysis for her beta. Any remaining mistakes or screw ups are all mine.  
> Title comes from the song _Echo_ by Jason Walker.

The call woke Wade up at the crack of dawn.

“What!”

“Mr. Wilson, you are invited to meet with Max today at 6 pm in New York. You are booked on a charter flight out of LAX at 8 am today. Max is looking forward to talking with someone of your… _caliber_. So don’t be late.” The man ended the call without even waiting for a response.

Finally, after almost seventeen years, he was going to meet face to face with the man who had utterly changed his life. He’d sworn on his brother’s grave that he’d get the man responsible for his death. Now, after working in the organization for the last five years, he was high enough up the chain to get a face to face with the head honcho.

He looked at the clock, 5:30; the sun wasn’t quite up yet. He ran his hands over his face and pulled out his bags and began to pack them with what he'd need. It would take about an hour to get to the airport plus the time to get to the terminal. It was enough time for him to grab a shower. He brushed his teeth while he waited for the water to warm. Afterward he stepped under the water and relaxed into its spray. The water pounded down on his back as he leaned against the wall. He mentally prepared for the upcoming meeting.

There was no way he would ever forget the day he was notified of his brother's death. He was a sophomore in college when once again his life had been turned inside out. This time his brother wasn’t there to anchor him, keep him grounded. The first time death had struck their mother and grandfather died, they only had each other. For him, his brother was a lifeline he clung to and his everything. It was for that reason he had to leave.

When the water started to cool, he quickly finished his shower. He got dried, shaved and dressed in record time. By 6:30 he was in the car and heading west.

*********

He arrived at the private gate terminals with ten minutes to spare.

“Mr. Wilson?” The boarding agent asked.

“Yeah.”

“Excellent. You’re right on time and your plane is waiting. Just follow the path to the stairs and you'll see the plane.” She pointed to the entryway behind her. “I hope you enjoy your trip and thank you for flying with our company this morning.” She finished with a smile.

“Thank you.” He took his boarding ticket and headed out toward the plane.

A flight attendant was standing at the door of the charter plane waiting for him. The woman smiled, “Hello, Mr. Wilson. If you would just take a seat and buckle in,” she pointed to the plane's interior, “I'll notify the captain and we'll be on our way.”

“I hope I didn't hold anyone up waiting for my arrival.”

“Oh, no. Not at all, Mr. Wilson. You’re our only passenger for this flight.” She said with a bright smile.

He was surprised by her statement. He looked around the passenger section and sure enough he was the only one on board. He went and stowed his bags in an overhead compartment and then sat down to buckle himself in. He must have made some kind of impression with Max. Especially if the man was willing to fly him all the way to New York on a private charter flight just for him. He couldn’t wait to meet the man face to face just so he could see the look on it as he ended his life.

Once again his thoughts dwelled on his brother. The officers that called him had said that his brother died in a car accident with a fuel tanker. It was a one in a million unlucky break they’d said. A fuel spill and unforeseen sparks causing a fireball explosion like something straight out of the movies. The end result his brother was burned beyond recognition and had to be identified by dental records. When some of the shock and grief wore off, the whole thing sounded odd and improbable. He then began his own investigation. Papers he found at his brother's place referred to some odd stuff and a Max character. There was only one Max that he knew of that would have anything to do with his brother and he was dead. It was a puzzle that piqued his interest. Nothing about it on the surface would have triggered the law to look closer. Yet something about it bugged him. So he dug a bit deeper, calling on some past favors and help. It took almost a year juggling school and everything else to come up with a strategy of revenge. What he came up with required his death and for him to take on another name, persona and life.

*********

The plane stopped not at the gate terminal but pulled into a private hangar. He disembarked and noticed there was a car and driver waiting.

“Mr. Wilson?” The driver asked.

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“I will drive you to your destination. Do you have any other luggage we need to wait for,” the driver inquired but made no attempt to take his bags. Seems the man had been coached or learned to let someone with his…skill set handle their own belongings.

“No,” he slung both his bags over his shoulder, “this is all I brought with me.”

“Shall we? There’s a bit of a drive ahead of us,” the driver turned and opened the rear door for him to enter.

He threw his overnight bag across the seat. “How far out are we going?” He paused in the door and turned to look at the driver.

“Not far. The drive will seem long. But we’re only heading out to Long Beach.”

He checked his watch it was only a half past four New York time. “That’s fine then.” He quietly got into the car and readjusted his bags on the seat next to him.

During the drive he reviewed the path that had brought him to this place. Once he had a plan it was pretty easy to fake his death at sea. He took the insurance money from his brother’s death and did a little plastic surgery. It wasn’t much just enough to not be immediately recognized on first or second glance. The next step had been to get a new identity and persona. He made sure his original dental records came with the new identity while his original identity’s was changed. Based on some of the data he’d received on Max, he relocated to Canada and joined their military. To his surprise he did well in the military and found that he actually liked it. After two years he was moved to Canadian Special Forces and excelled at being cold, calculated and brutal in his tasks. Fortune smiled on him during his third year doing CANSOFCOM. He encountered a team in the employ of Max. It hadn’t taken long to charm and strong arm his way onto the team. Even if deep inside him the boy he once was screamed at some of the atrocities committed and witnessed. One day he realized that somewhere along the way he lost who he was and had become the man he created. All he grew up with and knew got swept under rage, grief, desolation and the need for revenge. All that was left was the persona, a lie that had become the truth.

*********

They drove up to the gates of your typical Long Beach rich people mansion. The place was like a gleaming white reminder of Mediterranean villas. He just knew that the other side probably had private beach access and an in-ground pool. The place was meant to make you feel insignificant and unworthy to be there. He knew it was a psychological thing to keep away the most annoying while being a statement of power and wealth.

The car pulled up to the ornate wooden door at the apex of the semi-circular drive that led to it. His door was opened and he came out bringing his bags behind him. Before he could even set foot on the steps the front door was opened.

“Good day, Mr. Wilson,” said a middle aged, slightly balding man in a black and white uniform.

“Uh, hello.”

“We have you staying in a guest room on the second floor. If you’d kindly follow me, I’ll show you were that is.”

He walked into the large entryway and the presumed butler closed the door. They walked toward a curving staircase leading to the second level. He followed behind taking in the locations of the various doorways, windows and exits he could see.

“Your room has an in suite bathroom. There is a small balcony that overlooks the beach.” The man stopped in front of a door and opened it. “If you need anything you can dial extension 39 to reach me. Dinner will be served promptly at 6:30. Dress is casual but a jacket is desired. Mr. Max, will meet you at six in the study prior to your meal. When it’s time, I’ll return to escort you. I’ll leave you to freshen up before your meal.” Just like that the man was gone, leaving him alone in a room right out of a resort pamphlet. The unspoken ‘stay put’ clearly heard.

He walked around his room checking for surveillance of any type. He took in the three Tiffany lamps located around the room two beside the bed and one in the small seating area. All the furniture was cherry wood and looked to be antique. The bed was a queen sized sleigh facing the balcony, and as expected had a beautiful beach view. There were two night tables and one had the phone, clock and lamp on it. The small seating area had a plush leather chair and small table besides the Tiffany lamp. Near the bathroom door, close to the bed was an antique highboy with a mirror above it. The place was nice on par with the lower end luxury hotel rooms he’d seen occasionally in Europe. He wasn’t sure what was going on but he hadn’t expected this Max character to pull out the stops like this for some mid-level employee. It made him wonder what was going on.

As he unpacked his clothes into the highboy he puzzled over Max’s actions. No one casually threw around money and blatant wealth like this for an employee. If they did there were only two reasons to do so. First, you wanted to lull them into a false sense of security before giving them the axe. Figuratively or literally. Second, you wanted to seduce them into something. For all intents and purposes what he’d heard of about Max suggested a hedonistic nature and the man liked to take his pleasure however he wanted. So if this was indeed a seduction, maybe he could use it to his advantage.

He checked the clock he had about an hour before dinner and destiny. Maybe he’d take a half hour nap and then get ready.

*********

He was just putting on his jacket when the butler returned knocking on his door minutes to six. It was a good thing he had practice getting ready fast. Because the unexpected nightmare about his brother had required he take another shower and time to get his head together. Taking one last look in the mirror he opened the door.

“Follow me, sir.” He was escorted downstairs and to the right, down a short hallway with a few doors. They stopped outside the second door on the left and the butler opened it. “Mr. Wade Wilson, sir,” the man announced.

The room was dimly lit with the outer edges in the deepest shadows. There was enough light to not bump into anything but not to fully see details. It was a very intimate setting for a business meeting. So hunch number two was more than likely correct. This was a seduction ploy. The person in the room was seated in a chair by a set of glass paned doors on the opposite side of the room. The doors were open to let in the early fall night air. As the final rays of the sun faded, Wade could just make out a balcony or patio of some type with a table laid out ready for dinner.

The lighting in the room made it difficult to see the man’s face, though most of his body was reasonably visible. Something about the way the guy sat nudged a memory in the back of his head. He was so focused on the room’s setting and occupant that he didn’t realize he’d entered and the door had closed.

“Are you Max?” He asked hoping that once the man spoke he’d be able to figure out what was screwy about him.

“That’s what I go by, Mr. Wilson.”

He tried to get a better look at Max through the meager lighting, but it was no use. All he could glimpse was a silhouette of a face. He rubbed the back of his neck trying to figure out what was going on. He figured out this was a seduction scenario but this unsettled feeling was unexpected. He wasn’t prepared for this Max person to be someone he might know or knew.

“You come highly recommended, Wade. Do you mind if I call you Wade?” Wade slowly moved closer in order to see any distinguishing features.

“Wade, I’m in need of a personal assistant bodyguard sort. I need someone to take care of my needs and assist me with my tasks and goals. I need someone that can manage things for me without me constantly handholding them.”

Max's voice seemed familiar but it was wrong as well.

“As my personal assistant you get wonderful perks. Access to all my homes, cars, planes and just about anything else you can want.” Max waved a hand expansively to demonstrate his meaning. “You will travel with me at all times, unless I set a specific task for you. What perks do I get from you accepting the position?” Max paused for a brief moment. “Well, for one, I don’t have to directly deal with lesser idiots. But the _special_ bonus is…I have someone to warm my bed whenever I wish without the drama and risk of importing them in when needed.”

Wade stopped suddenly, “Um…come again?” Though he was expecting it, he was still caught off guard.

“Come now, Wade. We’re both presumably adults here. I’ll let you think it over while we eat.” Max rose from the chair.

He was able to make out a vague impression of sharp cheekbones through the dim light as Max turned and walked out to the patio. Max sat at the table where the shadows were deepest, just out of the reach of the light shed by a candle in a little glass bowl.

Wade sat opposite Max and realized that he, too, was in shadow but not as deeply as Max. He was glad that his face couldn’t easily be seen because he wasn’t exactly sure how much of his confusion would be showing on it.

Almost instantly the butler appeared with a dinner cart to serve the meal. Like everything else Max had done so far, the meal was a rich and tasty luxury. There were spicy garlic shrimp appetizers, followed by grilled rib eye steak with sherry mushrooms and to compliment the meal a sweet but dry red wine. Dessert had ended up being what appeared to be bon bons but when he bit into them, he realized they were cheesecake squares covered in a rich dark chocolate. They were so rich, he almost moaned in pleasure at the taste.

During the meal he watched Max carefully trying to figure out exactly who he was. Wade made note of the little gestures with his utensils that Max made and the brief glimpse of short curly hair. All these he cataloged as familiar somehow but couldn’t place them together as a whole.  As dinner continued he found himself relaxing against his will. The almost familiar voice combined with the occasional familiar movements drew him further into Max's web. On one observation, he noticed one hand was gloved and fought down a shiver as the instant comparison with Hitler came to mind. It was like a bucket of cold water dumped on him. He knew what this man was capable of and what damage he’d already caused in his life. He couldn’t let the vague sense of familiarity sway him from his revenge.

They finished dessert and while they were drinking coffee, Max made his move. Under the cover of their barely lit surroundings, Max walked toward the doors they’d exited just over an hour ago.

“Well, Wade, now we come to the testing portion of the evening. Even though you seem to be well suited for everything I’d… _require_. I’m not about to hire you if you’re a lousy lay. So let’s go inside and see if I can stand having you in my bed. Shall we?” Max motioned for Wade to go back into the study first.

Wade with his mouth with his napkin and rose from his seat to casually make his way past Max. As he walked by, he had to suppress a shiver as the heat of Max's body seemed to reach out for him. Intellectually, he knew Max was cataloging the way he moved and how that would transfer to the bedroom. He walking until he was in the room proper and stopped instead of heeding the desire to head for his room.

He turned at the sound of the patio doors closing and watched as Max, the man he’d come to kill, settled on the comfortable-looking sofa against the wall. The lighting was still working against him for figuring out what Max's face looked like. But the way Max casually sprawled in a corner of the couch struck as familiar to Wade again

“So, how do you want to do this?”

“Well, first, you could remove your jacket and come join me here on the sofa.” Max gestured toward Wade and then patted a spot next to him. “Then we’ll go from there.”

Wade gave himself a mental smack in the head for his hesitancy. He wasn’t some blushing virgin bride. He knew what was at stake, even if he’d never been topped before. He knew what the mechanics were like. He knew what was coming and for some reason a part of him was even slightly excited by it. He didn’t know if it was because he could feel Max's eyes focused on him, even if he couldn’t see Max. Or if it was because of the danger inherent in the situation he found himself in.

He took off his jacket and laid it on the arm of the nearest chair. He slowly walked over and joined Max on the sofa, sitting purposely on the opposite end.

Max chuckled. “Are you always this distant with potential paramours? Or is it just me you’re like this with?”

“I like to give myself room to work when I’m about to enter a situation where I might get… _messy_.”

Max's laugh this time was warmer and caused warmth to uncoil within Wade. “I like you, Wade. I like you a lot more than I probably should. Now, let’s see exactly how much more I can come to like you.” And quick as a snake, Max moved into Wade's personal space, boxing him into the corner with his arms. Even with their faces inches apart he still couldn’t seem to place the face but the nose struck a chord in his distant memory.

Something in the way Max held himself helped Wade figure out what it was that was expected of him. He grabbed Max by the neck and brought him in for a demanding kiss. After all, Wade had a part he needed to play and this was something he could do.

As expected, Max fought him for dominance. Wade maneuvered them by twisting his upper body and pinning Max to the back of the sofa. Wade immersed himself in the kiss as his hands moved across Max’s body. With sharp jerks he made short work of removing the Max's jacket and tie. Several buttons on Max’s shirt were open by Wade’s nimble fingers to give him access to skin. Wade’s gun calloused fingers found a peaked nipple hiding amongst the coarse chest hairs revealed. Max’s moan caused a flash of _want_ that swept through Wade. It was a surprise that wasn’t unwelcomed and scared him but not enough to stop.

Wade's shirt had been unbuttoned and Max’s touch fanned the fired growing inside him. He wanted to feel all of Max’s skin against his own so desperately. He finished undoing Max’s shirt and followed the happy trail of hair with his hands to undo Max's belt and pants. He caressed Max's hard cock through the boxers being worn. The moan that produced made him want to hear more. Max's face was a picture of desire and a sense of déjà vu came with it.

Wade was so intent on driving Max crazy that he almost jumped when he felt a hand plunge into his pants and grab his own erection with a firm grip. He groaned at the feel of Max's hand wrapped firmly around him and began to slowly thrust. Wade wanted more so he worked on getting both their pants out of the way, rolled Max under him and lined up their bodies nicely. He pressed Max into the cushions as his weight fully settled on the other man. They both moaned with the increased contact.

They began to move against each other with little thrusts at first. Eventually their movements synched to increase their pleasure. Breathy moans and groans escaped between pants for breath. Wade forgot all other objectives that weren’t for their mutual pleasure. His hands, lips, tongue and teeth explored every bit of Max's skin he could without losing a beat. Max's pleas for release increased as their pleasure reached a precipice.

“Please, Wade. Please,” Max said in a voice unlike he’d used before. A voice that, twenty years ago, had asked a little brother for help and togetherness.

It hit Wade like a blow. That was a voice he thought he'd never hear again, a voice he recognized well from real life and his dreams.

“Michael?” The name came unbidden to Wade’s lips as they both climaxed. It was a breathless exhale almost unable to be heard. But the man beneath him had heard and stiffened in response to hearing it. Abruptly Max -- or was it Michael? -- twisted out of their embrace and turned on a nearby lamp.

For the first time in over a decade and a half, Wade stared into blue eyes he knew almost as well as his own.

“Michael!” All the little things Wade noticed finally dropping into place. Without thinking, he moved closer, wanting to envelop his brother in a hug.

Max’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Wade’s face then shock shown on his face. “Sammy? Sam, is that really you?”

“Yeah, Mikey. It’s me.” He pulled his brother into his arms, holding him close and kissed him deeply.

Michael was stiff in his arms at first and then returned the kiss just as deep. When they pulled away both of them were struggling for breath.

“I thought you’d died, Sam.” Michael ran his hands down Wade’s back. “I read the obit. Even with all my resources, I never suspected you were still alive. Why? Why pretend to be dead?”

“I can ask the same thing about you, Michael, or should I call you Max? Why fake your own death? Didn’t you think I’d miss you?” He let his brother go. “We promised back in Santa Carla we’d deal with things together.” Wade/Sam got up off the sofa and fixed his pants to pace the room.

“The story of your death was too fishy for me.” Wade turned to look at Max/Michael. “I knew that you preferred to ride your bike wherever you went. So I couldn’t figure out how you ended up in a car accident.” He continued to pace. “Considering when you’re in a car you're less reckless than you are on a bike. The way the officers explained it sounded like the accident was entirely your fault.” Wade turned and looked his brother in the eyes. “Then I went looking for clues and I found odd papers on a Max.”

Wade ran an agitated hand across the back of his neck. “Initially, I thought they were in regards to vampire Max.” He shot his brother a glare then moved to the glass doors to look out on the night. “Then I found links for things connected back to you. That led to the payment to the truck driver, who was able to make it out with minor burns.” He looked back over his shoulder. “Yet, somehow, you were unable to even get out of your car.” He turned back toward his brother. “Eye witnesses said they didn’t hear you scream.” His brother cringed. “It made them believe you were unconscious and probably succumbed to smoke inhalation before the fire actually got to you.” Wade stood there waiting expectantly.

“Sam, I’m sorry.” Michael straightened out his clothes. “I did it to protect you.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It was the only way I could and make sure you had a normal life,” Michael tried to move closer to his brother but stopped short at the anger in his eyes.

“Protect me from what?” Wade growled out in frustration. “Damn it Mike. We promised we’d protect each other during and after the whole vampire mess and especially after Mom and Grandpa died.” He motioned a hand between them. “We promised to have each other’s back. How the hell were you supposed to have done that by pretending to be dead?” He yelled.

“I had to protect you from me.” Michael tried to grab his brother's arms but Wade shrugged him off. “Even Nanuck wouldn’t have been able to protect you from me then.” It was his turn to look out into the dark of night. “After the funerals I went searching at the old hotel and Max’s house. I looked for anything that could help us with the money situation.” Wade moved just a bit closer at the quiet tone of his brother's voice. “I found connections and links to far more than just vampires. In the hotel I found stuff to sell for money and at Max’s house I found an empire that pretty much ran on its own with only nudges from the emperor.”

Michael turned to look at him. “When you went away to college I used the funds from that empire funneled cleanly to help with college. It got darker and deeper the more I tried to manipulate things for us to have a good life.” Michael walked back toward the sofa. “Max was a shadow person that for all intents didn’t truly exist but had been around for over thirty or more years by that time. I just slipped into the name or title if you will.” Michael ran a hand over his face.

“Max had no family, no ties, and no weaknesses.” It was Michael's turn to look his brother in the eye as truth was spoken. “I couldn’t let them find you by connecting Michael to Max. So, Michael had to die.” He sighed, “I didn’t mean for it to affect you like this.” He sat on the sofa running his hands through his hair.

Wade walked to stand in front of his brother. “I died the day they told me you were dead, Mikey.” He turned his face away, “I stood over what I believed was your grave and vowed vengeance on the man who’d killed you.” He gave a chuckle, “I find it ironic that you survived one Max only to have another kill you.” He plopped down in the chair next to the sofa.

“How did you know it was me? If you had known it was me since you got here you would have said something before. When did you figure out I was Michael?”

Wade rubbed his hand over the back of his neck in embarrassment. “When you said please, it was said in that same way and voice as the night I pulled you back in through my window.”

“Why’d you kiss me again after you knew who I was?” Michael asked quietly, intently looking at his little brother.

Wade looked up at the ceiling. “Because I’ve wanted to since I was seventeen.” He looked at Michael, pleading with his eyes. “I can understand if you want nothing more to do with me but please don’t shut me out. Please.” For the first time in almost twenty years, he wanted to cry.

“No. Oh, Sam, I won’t do that.” Michael leaned forward on the sofa. “That was another reason I did what I did. I thought my feelings for you were influencing you.” He ran a shaky hand through his hair. “You never really dated and all the time you spent with me made me feel like I was holding you back.”

Michael got up and started to pace. “While you were at school I missed the nights you’d crawl into bed after a nightmare. I missed having you so close.” Michael's voice filled with shame. “I was scared I’d push you into something that wasn’t what you wanted or needed.

“Even after we killed Max the vampire taint was still within me. I knew what it felt like to be powerful and to want to have others at my mercy.” Wade could tell that Michael's thoughts had gone dark just from the timbre of his voice. “That darkness was still there just not an active push to act upon those feelings.” Michael’s voice returned to normal. “There were so many things I wanted to do to you. To be honest looking at you now,” Michael gave his body a thorough look over, “I’d still want to do them and so much more.” Michael walked over to stand between Wade’s legs.

Wade’s hands automatically reached out to hold on to Michael’s hips. He rested his head on his brother’s stomach. “I can’t be without you again Michael.” Wade's breath hitched. “I died inside the day I thought I buried you. I’m not the same as I was.” His arms wound around his brother's waist. “I’ve done everything and anything to get to the point where I could be able to avenge your death by killing Max.” His embrace tightened. “You weren’t the only one tainted by the darkness of a vampire. I learned then exactly what I can and would do to protect and help you.”

His voice cracked as he spoke. “I’ve always been yours even when I didn’t really know what that meant. I’m yours Michael to do with as you will.” He pulled his brother onto his lap holding him tight.

Wade felt Michael stiffen in surprise and then he was wrapped in his brother's arms. His brother attempted to calm him. He was peppered with kisses on his hair, temple and brow. His face was cupped by his brother’s hands and he was kissed with what felt like all the love Michael had for him.

“Why don’t we take this upstairs to my room, Sam?” Michael suggested. “We’ll be a lot more comfortable.” Wade mutely nodded but still held on to him tightly.

Michael chuckled, “You’ll have to let me go so we can walk upstairs.” Wade gave a negative shake of his head and mumbled “don’t wanna” into his neck. His brother rubbed his back, “I promise you can still hold on to me while we head there because I seriously want to explore you in comfort.”

Wade reluctantly stood them up but kept a hold of Michael’s ungloved hand. It reminded him of the one that was gloved. “What happened to your hand?”

Michael grimaced. “You remember how Edgar and Allan said no two ways a vampire dies is the same?” Wade nodded. “Well it was facing one that was in the employ of vampire Max that connected me, Michael, to the name Max. He was not pleased and attempted to take me out. During the fight he managed to bite me in the hand at the same time I managed to stake him. This,” his brother took off the glove to show his hand, “was the results of him going boom while biting me.” The scar was horrific and looked like it was not fully healed.

“Is it going to get any better? I mean it’s been what? At least ten or fifteen years?”

“It actually is as healed as it is ever going to get. I have full use of it but there is nerve and tissue damage that can never be healed. I have medication for the pain when the nerves fire unnecessarily. But that’s not a topic I want to dwell on right now.” Michael leaned over and kissed Wade. “Come on. Let’s head to bed.” Wade was guided out of the study and up to Michael's bedroom.

*********

“You know when we left Santa Carla; I never expected our lives to turn out like this. Or even for us to be where we are at this very moment. Hell the last thing I expected was to end up in bed with you.” Sam said as he ran a finger down his brother’s happy trail.

“Shut up, you’re ruining the afterglow. Besides does it really matter how we got here?” Michael’s fingertips trailed across his shoulder. “I’m rather glad that you are here. I always knew you’d come back.” Those same fingers found their way down his arm and back up. “Saw it even back then, you could never let me go. You fought for me even when you thought it was a losing battle.” Michael’s hand stopped moving. “You protected me when I was unable to protect you. I knew then that if given the chance you’d always stay with me. What I did was for you, and no one else.” Michael’s hand glided down his back.

“Really,” Sam asked looking up at his brother as he arched into his touch.

“Well, maybe money and power had something to do with it too. But you were all I had left at the time so I used everything in my power to keep you. At least until you left and then I couldn’t anymore.” Michael said quietly.

“You know why I left. I couldn’t stay and not want you.” He gently rubbed circles over Michael’s stomach.

“Yeah, then I killed my identity and you killed yours. Fast forward almost two decades and here we are.”

“Hey, I do well as Wade Wilson,” Sam pouted.

“Yeah, but Canadian?” Michael laughed and kissed him to stop any further discussion. It was one of many in their future together.

**Author's Note:**

> I know that in _The Lost Boys_ that Sam was probably younger than sixteen but for this story's purpose I have him as sixteen at the end of the movie.


End file.
